


Left Reeling

by WishIwasMeg



Category: Benton Fraser/Margaret Thatcher - Fandom, due South
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishIwasMeg/pseuds/WishIwasMeg
Summary: Francesca goes to a St Valentine's ball at the consulate. Will her dreams come true?
Relationships: Ben/Francesca, Ben/Meg
Kudos: 4





	Left Reeling

Francesca Vecchio could hardly contain her excitement. Her brother Ray had received an invitation to a grand ball at the Canadian consulate to celebrate St Valentine’s Day. This was an annual event, but it was the first time Ray had been invited. He was on the guest list because of the close working relationship he had with Constable Benton Fraser RCMP, Deputy Liaison Officer at the consulate and his unofficial partner in cleaning up crime in Chicago. He had inveigled the invite out of Fraser, more out of curiosity than a real desire to attend the event. The strange ways of Canadians never ceased to amaze him and he thought it would be a hoot to see how they let their hair down. 

As soon as Frannie learned of the “plus one” invitation, Ray didn’t get a minute’s peace until he agreed to take her as his partner. There were those he would much rather have taken, but he realised what a big deal this was for his sister. In her eyes it would give her the chance to spend time socially with the man of her dreams, Benton Fraser. Frankly, Ray couldn’t see the attraction himself, but then he, being a red-blooded male, was immune to Fraser’s devastating good looks. Frannie had all but thrown herself at Fraser’s feet during working hours at the police station, all to no avail. But a ball……..that would be her chance to enchant him with her grace and beauty and wait for him to sweep her off her feet.

She had agonised over what to wear - floor-length, of course, but slinky or ultra feminine or what? She had settled on a gold-coloured, low-cut strapless gown with full skirt. Ray had thought it a bit too….. but their mother, who regarded Fraser as the catch of the century, encouraged her to buy it. Now the great night was here at last and Ray, feeling rather self-conscious in a rented tuxedo, escorted his sister to the door of the consulate, handed over his invitation and they went inside. It was the first time Frannie had set foot in Fraser’s workplace and she marvelled at the grandeur of the place. There was a portrait of Queen Elizabeth in an ornate gold frame, and exquisite arrangements of flowers festooned the various reception rooms while a small orchestra played in the sumptuous ballroom. She was enchanted. This was the stuff of fairy tales. Tonight her Prince Charming would surely claim her.  
She spotted him as he stood by the door of the elegant dining room where canapés and champagne were laid out for the guests. He was wearing his dress uniform and she almost swooned at how handsome he looked. Her prince. He came over to greet his American friends and her heart somersaulted as he smiled at her. “Welcome to Canada, Francesca,” he said. “You look lovely.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to raise your glasses in a toast to the health of Her Majesty the Queen,” boomed the Consul General.  
“The Queen!” murmured the assembled company.  
The toast seemed to be the signal for dancing to start, and couples began gliding over the parquet floor of the ballroom. Ray and Frannie sat the first dance out, Frannie never taking her eyes off Fraser who mingled with the guests, obviously under instruction to be charming. She spotted his boss, Chief Liaison Officer Inspector Margaret Thatcher aka The Dragon Lady, looking incredibly cool and elegant in a red silk gown expertly cut to accentuate the graceful curve of her figure. “Could do with a bit of bling to jazz it up,” thought Frannie rather cattily. She too seemed to be under instruction to circulate and she was soon led on to the dance floor by one of the visiting dignitaries. The second dance, Frannie stumbled round the dance floor with Ray, keeping an eye on Fraser who was dancing with the wife of one of the foreign diplomats. As the third dance was announced, her heart nearly stopped as Fraser came over and politely stretched out his hand. It was a foxtrot, and Fraser’s arm encircled her waist and held her at a respectful distance as they danced. When it was over, he thanked her politely and escorted her back to her place. But it was enough for Frannie. She just KNEW that when the first smoochy dance started, he would come for her. She stumbled round the floor with Ray again, then with Constable Turnbull who, unbeknown to her, had a secret crush on her.

Then something called an “Eightsome Reel” was announced and Ray spotted the first danger signals. Fraser was standing beside Inspector Thatcher and when the dance was announced, he bowed slightly, took her hand and led her to join one of the sets of eight dancers arranged around the dance floor. Much to Ray’s amazement, all the couples seemed to know the intricate moves as they whirled and twirled to the traditional fiddle music. “What is it with Canadians?“ he mused. “Half of them seem to be Scottish deep down”. But what really troubled him was Fraser and Thatcher. The dance did not involve much physical contact, but when their hands met, or their arms intertwined, Ray saw the spark. “Oh, Oh! Surely not!“ he thought, “Not Benny and the Dragon Lady! No way! She detests him.” But it was obvious from the look on her face that she did not. “How the hell did he keep that quiet?” thought Ray. “But then he can be so damned inscrutable at times! That might explain why he would never hear a word against her.”  
There was no denying the looks that passed between Fraser and his boss. They looked as if they would drown in each other’s eyes. Ray looked sideways at his sister. “Poor Frannie! I would never have brought her if I had known!” She was transfixed watching Fraser dance, and Ray had the impression that she was so focused on him, she hadn’t picked up on his connection with his partner. At the end of the dance, both Canadians resumed mingling with the guests and Frannie consented to dance once again with Turnbull and once again with her brother.

At long last, a romantic waltz was announced, the lights dimmed and the orchestra struck up a slow, dreamy melody. Frannie sat upright and waited, watching Fraser start to cross the room. “Please, God, let this be it,” she prayed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was holding out his hand to Meg Thatcher and the smouldering look that passed between them would have set a forest alight. Ray glanced at his sister and felt his heart break for her. She was watching Fraser holding his partner in a close embrace as they danced cheek to cheek, their hands entwined as he kissed her fingers and whispered in her ear.  
“Do you want to go, Frannie?” asked Ray.  
“Yeah,” she gulped, hardly able to keep back the tears that were stinging her eyes. Before they reached the door, there was a drum roll and everyone turned to see the Consul General standing at the microphone on the stage.  
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “I apologise for interrupting proceedings, but I have just received some wonderful news which I’m sure you will all want to share. On this most romantic of nights, it gives me great pleasure to announce the engagement of our two liaison officers. Let’s give a warm round of applause and congratulation to Meg and Ben.”  
The room erupted in cheers and applause and the two lovers stood, blushing and holding hands at the front of the dais. Fraser pulled his fiancée into an embrace and kissed her lips as the cheering reached fever pitch.  
“Come on, Frannie,” said Ray. “I’ll take you home.”


End file.
